


The Light In Me

by dr_paladiknight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fem Keith, Fem Sheith, Fem Shiro, Femsheith Exchange 2020, Light Angst, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_paladiknight/pseuds/dr_paladiknight
Summary: No matter how many times they're pulled apart, Keith and Shiro always find their way back to each other.A few moments about reconnection, of being lost and found again.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21
Collections: Femsheith Exchange 2020





	The Light In Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monstersinthecosmos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/gifts).



> This is for @monstersinthecosmos for the Femsheith Exchange, who asked for a retelling of a classic Sheith scene(s) from canon. Thank you for being so patient while I wrestled with this! I hope you like it!!

I.

Keith can't sleep.

They’d only arrived on Arus a few days ago, but between the space jet lag and everything that’s happened - finding the lions, learning to form Voltron, fighting Sendak, the Robeast, then Sendak again - finding a regular sleep pattern has been the least of her worries. 

She wanders through the castle for a bit before heading outside into the cool early morning air. Compared to Earth’s, the Arusian moon is huge, taking up a full quarter of the night sky even as it sinks below the horizon. The other end of the sky is edging from black into navy blue, signaling that sunrise isn't far off. 

The Castle has rested on Arus for thousands of years, a constant in a landscape that has changed and reshaped over the centuries. At some point, a wide bridge leading up to the castle’s grand entrance had been built. Smaller bridges and pathways split off to the sides, some leading down to the shores of the lake below. 

Keith makes her way down the remnants of one of these paths, descending the white stone steps until they end in a little bay where the water is calm, edged by a rocky beach. She’s surprised to see Shiro there, seated on a flat boulder at the water’s edge.

Shiro looks up when she hears Keith approaching, giving her a small smile and scooting over to make room. 

“You couldn't sleep either?”

“Yeah. When I was living in the desert I slept a lot during the day and did stuff at night. Still used to that, I guess.” 

Shiro tilts her head, looking at Keith through her flop of newly white hair. Her expression is neutral. 

“How long were you in the desert for, Keith?”

“A few months, I guess? I left the Garrison after they lied and said the Kerberos mission was lost. Been out there ever since.”

Over the last year, Keith has thought about the evening before the mission launch many times. Shiro’s smile had been warm like the sunset, warm like her hand clasped firmly on Keith’s shoulder. She'd promised Keith she’d be back, and someday soon, they’d be up among the stars together, and Keith’s heart had squeezed with hope and longing. 

In the months to come, Kerberos had been all anyone wanted to talk about at the Garrison. The crew sent nightly transmissions on the mission status, and updates were broadcast from the big screen in the mess hall every morning. 

Except the morning after the mission was lost. The screen stayed ominously blank all day, and speculation and rumors started to buzz. And then, that afternoon, came the abrupt announcement: the mission was a failure, and it was the pilot’s fault. She had been concealing a disease that affected her ability to fly. There were no plans for a retrieval. 

Keith feels the familiar anger bubbling up in her chest. “Nobody said anything about an investigation or sending a rescue mission. They just covered it up and blamed it on you. So fuck them.”

Shiro looks out over the water and the moon's golden reflection, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t say anything. 

Keith feels like she should say something more to ease the uncomfortable silence, but her  memories of the cold desert  nights she spent suffocating under the hurt and grief are still fresh.

_ It’s killing me when you’re away. _

"I’m sorry, Keith," Shiro says softly. As if she had anything to apologize for. 

Keith shakes her head, trying to pull herself together. Shiro was the one who’d just escaped from a year in alien captivity, yet she was the one comforting Keith. 

Shiro leans back on her elbows, looking up at the sky. The sky is brighter now, turning pale blue and gold as the sunrise approaches.

“I’m starting to remember some more things now. I… I don’t want to remember any more. I did terrible things. I hurt so many people.”

“I- shit, I’m so sorry, Shiro. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.” Keith cringes as the words leave her mouth, feeling horrible and inadequate. She's heard enough shitty platitudes throughout her own life to know how useless they are. 

“I'm glad you showed me how to spar, though, back at the Garrison. It came in handy when I had to fight in Zarkon’s arena.”  Shiro waits for another beat, then adds, “But later on I was mostly fighting unarmed.” 

Keith opens her mouth to reply, stops, then fixes Shiro with a stony glare. “Shiro. Not funny.” 

“Sorry. It was too good not to pass up. You can just _cut me off_ next time.” 

Keith aims a kick at Shiro’s leg and gets a snicker in response. They settle into silence again, a little more comfortable this time. 

“I wish we could stay here a little longer. It's been so long since I've seen water. Grass. The sky.”

Keith heart aches and she turns her head to study Shiro, committing her new features to memory. She wants Shiro to know how important she is. How much she matters. That Keith would bring her the moon and stars if she asked for them. 

“I can't tell you what it means to me, that you came back. I’m glad you’re here.”  _ Thank you for being alive. Thank you for keeping your promise.  _

Shiro does give her a little smile at that, and they sit in silence for a while longer, watching the sky get lighter. Eventually, the sun breaks over the horizon, and Shiro stretches and sits up. “We should get back to the castle.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees automatically, although she could have stayed with Shiro on the quiet shore forever. 

Shiro stands first and offers her hand out to Keith. Keith takes it, and Shiro pulls her up and, unexpectedly, into a hug. 

Keith stands stiff and awkward for a moment before relaxing into Shiro’s warmth. Shiro is quiet for what seems like a long time, just leaning on Keith. 

“Keith?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm glad you're here, too.”

They hold each other for a few moments more, their hands clasped between their chests. 

  
  
  


II.

The wound on Shiro’s flank burns as she tries to scoot deeper into the little cave, away from the creatures pawing at the entrance. 

“On second thought, you’d better hurry. These guys just started digging.” 

One of the alien creatures manages to force its head through the cave’s entrance. Jaws clamp down on her ankle, and then the creature drags her out of her hiding spot, tosses her like a dog with a toy. Shiro lands hard on her injured side, rolls and skids down a rocky slope before landing hard on the bottom of the canyon. Slow and deliberate, the four creatures prowl down the slope, fanning out to surround her. 

Shiro forces herself onto her feet, struggles to control her breathing. Focus. Keith said she was coming. She just has to hold on. 

The creature to her left leaps, talons outstretched, and Shiro turns to face it. 

Something massive plunges down from the sky, abruptly crushing the creature beneath it, just feet away from Shiro. The force of the impact knocks Shiro backward, flat on her ass. The creature to her right is next, vanishing under the next house-sized metal paw to come crashing down.

The Black Lion’s tail, thick as a tree trunk, whips over her head, swatting a third creature away.  As the last creature turns and runs, the Lion stands tall over Shiro and  _ roars _ , so loud that Shiro doesn’t hear it so much as feels her bones rattling and the earth shaking beneath her. 

Shiro’s mind, connected to the Lion’s, is flooded with emotions that aren’t hers. Triumph. Love, ferocious and consuming like a wildfire.  _ Mine _ . 

As Shiro sits up shakily, the lion’s head lowers and Keith comes running down the ramp.

“Shiro!”

Shiro blinks, head still spinning.  _ Keith  _ had moved the Lion? 

Keith kneels before Shiro, one hand on Shiro’s upper arm. The other hand cups Shiro’s cheek, tilting her chin up to look into Keith’s’ intense, worried face.

Keith is beautiful, Shiro thinks, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. 

“Hi,” she manages, trying to get her brain working again. 

Apparently that’s not what Keith is looking for, because now she looks even more worried. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

“I’m- the creatures didn’t hurt me that badly. But Zarkon’s witch wounded me when we were on his flagship.” 

Keith maneuvers herself around to Shiro’s uninjured side and under her arm. “We’ll get the Lions back together and we’ll call the Castle. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, I -” Shiro tentatively shifts weight onto her right leg, and gasps when a bolt of pain shoots up her side. 

“Maybe not,” she hisses through gritted teeth, as though the sarcasm would disguise how hard it is to breathe right now. 

Keith studies her for a second, then bends down and lifts Shiro up in her arms, bridal style. Automatically, Shiro loops her arms around Keith’s neck for balance. She can feel her cheeks burning. 

Keith watches her carefully for any signs of pain. Her face is very close. “You okay?”

“Yup, okay! Strong,” Shiro says, then considers biting off her tongue to keep herself from saying anything else stupid.

Keith, seemingly effortlessly, carries Shiro up the Black Lion’s ramp. Shiro feels fuzzy and warm, a bit like she’s floating. She's lightheaded from the battle and all the blood she’s lost, she decides. She’s not  _ swooning _ . 

Keith sets her down gently in the pilot’s chair. As Shiro guides the Black Lion in the direction of where Keith had left the Red Lion, Keith’s hand never leaves her shoulder, a steady, anchoring presence. After they land, Keith carries Shiro back down the ramp, and Shiro sticks her hands between her thighs and tries not to look directly at Keith, not at her high cheekbones or her sharp jawline or her messy, gorgeous hair. Keith putters around building a fire, leaving Shiro alone with her panicky gay thoughts. 

When had Keith become so magnificent? In the moment of her rescue, Shiro had felt such a strong sense of conviction, a ferocious protectiveness as bright and intense as the sun. Those weren’t her emotions; they had come from Keith. 

Keith has always been pretty, Shiro isn’t blind. But it suddenly feels like while she’s been looking at Keith all these years, now is the first time Shiro has  _ seen  _ her. 

She certainly is touch-starved. After she and Adam had broken up, she hadn’t had the time or desire to date anyone else. She’d spent the last year in captivity, where all touch had carried the threat of pain. But Keith had touched her gently, with such care, and it felt so good to be held like that again, like she was something precious. 

The pain in her flank twists deeper, and Shiro has to abandon her train of thought to focus on taking slow, deep breaths. This isn’t a normal wound. Shiro can feel the tendrils of poisoned quintessence spreading under her skin. If help doesn’t find them soon… 

Shiro is no stranger to contemplating her own death. She remembers the appointments she’d had with a palliative medicine specialist when she was a teenager, newly diagnosed with her illness. There were many times in the past year when she thought she’d die: alone in a Galra prison cell, or under the glaring lights of the gladiators’ arena. Stranded on a desolate, rocky planet, far from home. 

Shiro knows that it's painful for Keith to talk about loss, but they're in a war and they have to be practical. 

“Keith, if I don't make it out of here, I want you to lead Voltron.” 

Keith turns to face Shiro fully, her dark eyes steady and faithful. "Stop talking like that. You're gonna make it.” 

Shiro has to admire Keith's unshakeable faith, even though she's not sure she deserves it. She turns her wrist so her fingers are open, palm up, and Keith takes Shiro’s hand in hers, weaving their fingers together and squeezing tight. 

“I’m right here, Shiro. Just stay with me.” 

Shiro wants to live. She has always fought to live, for herself and now for Keith, too. She’s going to hold on. 

  
  


III.

Voltron leaves the battlefield off Thayserix, the wreckage of the defeated Galra fleet behind them. 

Keith listens quietly to the other paladins whooping and cheering over the comms, their spirits buoyed by victory and relief. Now that the high of the Voltron transformation has worn off, she just feels numb.

As soon as they put enough distance between themselves and Thayserix, Keith gives the order to break up back into lions. The team’s morale has been low, and they deserve to celebrate for a while. She doesn’t need them getting a glimpse of her emotions right now. 

She takes a deep breath and grips the Black Lion’s controls tighter.

“Great work, team. We’ll meet back on the bridge to debrief in an hour.” She's satisfied with how her voice doesn't shake. 

She sets down in the Black Lion’s hangar slowly, deliberately taking her time. It’s silent in the Lion’s cockpit, but there’s tension in the set of her teeth and at the base of her skull, winding tighter and tighter, about to snap. Her face feels cold, but heat is building steadily behind her eyes. 

When she's sure everyone else has exited their lions and gone into the Castle, and the comms are silent at last, Keith curls up in the pilot’s seat, knees drawn up to her chest, and lets herself shake apart. 

_ I’m sorry, Shiro.  _

_ I’m not ready for this. I can’t do this without you.  _

The sobs tear themselves out of her chest as hot tears run down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and the tip of her nose. She hasn’t cried like this since Kerberos, this kind of panicky, gasping crying, shaking so hard she can barely breathe. This feels horribly familiar, the numbness and rage and grief by turns. Losing Shiro the first time had felt like gravity upending, and she had spun out of control. Now her heart has been torn out again, leaving a black hole behind.

Forming Voltron without Shiro felt wrong, nauseating. Part of her almost hoped they wouldn’t be able to form Voltron again. If they could, that would mean that they could keep on fighting the Galra. That they could move on. 

_ But we still need you. The universe still needs you.  _

_ I need you. _

Eventually, the sobbing subsides, leaving her hollowed out and exhausted, but at least the frustration and grief are burned out for now. She’s still curled up in the pilot’s seat, forehead resting against her knees. She’s not sure how long she stays like that, eyes closed, just breathing. 

A weightless warmth settles around her shoulders, a phantom embrace. A gentle hand strokes her hair; soft lips press against her forehead. She feels surrounded by tenderness and affection. 

_ Keith.  _

Keith’s eyes snap open and she jerks her head up, looking around the cockpit. Had she fallen asleep? She could have sworn she’d heard - she'd felt -

“Shiro…?”

But the Black Lion’s cockpit is quiet and still. Keith waits a little longer, her heart in her throat, but she doesn’t hear anything else. The gentle feeling has slipped away. 

She takes one more deep, shuddery breath and exits the cockpit. The others are waiting for her. 

  
  
  
  


IV.

The Black Lion’s consciousness is ancient and vast, closer to a force of nature than a machine or a beast. Shiro, in comparison, is tiny and transient. 

She remembers being pulled out of that space and briefly into a realm of warm light and pure white quintessence. Then she was put...here, but she’s not sure where here is. 

Wherever she is now, it’s dim and murky, like being in a deep fog at night. Distorted shapes flicker and move, blur at the edges and fade away. 

She has a vague sense that she’s underwater and being borne along by a current, but there’s no up or down or sense of where she’s going. There’s no pain - she doesn’t have any sensation at all, really. She doesn’t need to breathe here. She doesn’t think she has lungs. 

_ “I’m afraid the clone body is rejecting Shiro’s consciousness.” _

_ “There must be something you can do to help!” _

_ “There’s nothing I can do.”  _

The voices are distorted and faint, but she can just make them out. 

Shiro is so, so tired. She's tired of fighting. It would be so easy to just go to sleep in this strange, dim place, until her edges fade into the darkness and she’s gone too.

No. Focus. She has to focus on something. She doesn’t want to disappear. 

_ “Shiro, please! Fight!” _

She feels a faint tug, in the void where her heart used to be. She tries to call Keith's name, but she doesn't have a mouth, nor lungs to draw breath. She can’t move; her body doesn’t exist anymore, dissolved into the miasma. 

She hears a sob, choked back. And then softer, broken: “You can't do this to me again.”

_Keith_. Brave, devoted Keith. Keith, who refused to let her go, who said she loved her. 

She can’t break Keith’s heart again. 

Shiro feels the tug again, more solid this time, and she stops drifting. And, like a flower knows to turn toward the sun, she knows how to get out of the dark. 

Shiro opens her eyes. 

After months of not having a physical body, all sensations are overwhelming. Every breath feels heavy, and even the dim lights of the Black Lion’s cargo hold grate against her raw senses. 

But Shiro’s senses converge on the beauty of the young woman’s face above hers. Keith is here. Keith, the light that had guided Shiro home.

“Keith…? I was dreaming… Keith, you saved me.”

Keith’s eyes are soft as she gives Shiro a small, wobbly smile. The space between them feels eternal, sacred. Shiro feels exhausted and weak, but she’s warm with the sense of homecoming; of being lost, and found again. Keith's thumb strokes gently over her cheekbone, along her jaw, across her bottom lip. 

“We saved each other,” she says, just above a whisper, and leans down. 

Shiro tilts her chin up to meet her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Harbor" by Vienna Teng. 
> 
> Yell about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dr_paladiknight)!


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